The Permanent Intruder
by Hulud
Summary: Due to Dr. Coleman's slippery hands and a moral dilemma, Kirk-within-Lester is not killed. But somehow, Kirk and Lester's minds end up remaining in the wrong bodies. Slash in the future, sort of? This has a legitimate plot line.
1. Don't You Love Me?

Lester-within-Kirk had just experienced the frightening realization that her mind was in a losing battle against her new body's rightful owner. She reluctantly relinquished her position in the Captain's chair and ran to the temporary office of Dr. Coleman.

"The transference is weakening. What happened? For a moment, I found myself back with the prisoners. I will not go back to being Janice Lester! You must help me prevent it," she pleaded to Dr. Coleman.

"The only way to prevent the transference… is by the death of Janice Lester," he began, obviously distraught that his lover was very serious about her impending transition from a strong-willed woman to a madman. "You must carry out the execution," he reasoned.

"I can't. I can't. The crew is in mutiny," he said, suddenly appearing very desperate and weak. "You must kill her for me."

"I have done everything else for you," he said, trying miserably to assert dominance, "but I will not murder for you."

"Then do it for yourself. If Kirk doesn't die, we'll both be exposed as murderers. Does that give you any choice?" Lester-within-Kirk reasoned, as he watched the doctor's will shatter.

Without waiting for the answer he knew he would receive, he said, "The dosage should be doubly lethal."

"It is," Dr. Coleman responded in defeat. He watched Lester-within-Kirk rush from the room, and felt a sense of deep regret for all that he'd done. He had done it all for the sake of the woman who he had loved so deeply; who he was watching become a monstrous failure of a man, right before his eyes. And now, he was prepared to kill someone he'd never known personally and held no animosity against, all for the sake of this terrible woman-man who he loved so deeply.

He thought back to a time before this insane catastrophe, while the device which had facilitated these events was still in its earliest testing phases. He remembered reaching out and twisting his fingers through her wavy, golden-brown hair and marveling at how he of any would be permitted such contact with someone so exquisite. Her new form also had wavy, golden-brown hair, but had a shape that was far from womanly. He didn't want her beautiful form to leave him. He imagined the absolute pleasure of sliding his hands across her soft abdomen and up to her breasts, which were still firm and supple as if she were still a teenage girl. He grimaced as the body beneath his hands transformed into that of a healthy and well built grown man. He knew he could get used to it. He doubted he could ever learn to truly enjoy it, but he could tolerate it, because he still loved her mind strongly enough to supplant her new form.

He picked up the hypo, which contained the terminal substance that he almost wished was going to end his own life. His hands trembled as he held it. He got up and began to walk toward the door. As his arms swung by his side, the hypo flew out of his hand and smashed against the wall. He watched, almost ecstatically, as the deadly chemical dripped down the wall. Though he had no intention of breaking the hypo, he was quite thrilled that he had accidentally done so. He jumped to his medical kit and pulled out another hypo with a cartridge containing an altogether different substance. He sped out the door, anticipating the possibility of being able to hold his Janice Lester in his arms once again.

"To prevent further conspiracy, you will be removed to separate cells," Lester-within-Kirk announced to Spock and Kirk-within-Lester, "If there's any resistance, you'll be given a sedative until you learn cooperation."

Lester-within-Kirk entered the cell, and grabbed Kirk-within-Lester by the arm, yanking her away from Spock's side.

"Dr. Lester will be first," he announced, sinisterly, and shoved her in the direction of Dr. Coleman, who had just appeared in the hallway.

"Follow Dr. Coleman," he ordered.

Dr. Coleman gently grabbed her arm and led her into a cell nearby.

"I can't bring myself to kill you as I was ordered," he whispered, and before she could flee, he injected the substance into her arm. Within seconds, she became limp and fell to the ground. A guard heard her collapse, and ran to the cell.

"Call Dr. McCoy!" he yelled. Another guard ran to the intercom.

"It's no use. She's dead," said Dr. Coleman, flatly.

Lester-within-Kirk smirked as he saw Dr. McCoy fly around the corner and into the cell. He soon followed McCoy in just so he could stare in glory at the lifeless body of his former self. No longer would he have to stay trapped in that useless woman's body.

"He's right. She's dead," Dr. McCoy lifelessly stated. He held her lifeless, limp wrist between his fingers. A tear dripped down his nose as he marveled that his best friend's soul had been lost with the death of this woman.

"She's dead, _Jim. _That's right, she's _dead!_" he yelled, and then launched himself at the imposter's neck. Lester-within-Kirk merely smiled as he watched his attacker get yanked back by security.

Dr. McCoy thrashed and kicked and yelled as the guards struggled to hold him down. Soon enough, Nurse Chapel was called to the scene to administer a sedative.

"I'm sorry," she said as she bent over him to administer the injection. Within moments, Dr. McCoy was still.

Amidst the confusion, Dr. Coleman slipped out of his cell to stand next to the Captain-impostor. He looked down and winked at the doctor, who nodded back. As he watched Lester-within-Kirk stare down and gloat over the insanity he'd created, Dr. Coleman discreetly pulled a second hypo out of his back pocket. He held it behind his back for a few seconds, and then with a surge of adrenaline he jabbed it into the imposter's arm. In a moment's time, the man toppled over as though he were an unsteady column.

The guards swung around and pinned their eyes on Dr. Coleman.

"He's not dead!" he yelled in haste, "And neither is Janice. They'll both wake up in about twenty minutes."

He walked over to the guards and held his wrists out to them. "In the mean time, hold us in custody. What Mr. Spock says is true, and I can prove it. But please, take us in custody. Kirk is dangerously insane," he pleaded as a sob overcame him. He dropped to the floor in front of the guards, sobbing harder than he'd ever before. The guards picked him up and brought him back into the cell he had walked out of a moment ago.

"We will leave you in here, but Kirk will be taken to sick bay and held in restraints for observation," a guard announced.

Several stretchers were called in, and all who were subdued were carted off to sick bay. Spock followed once he was released from his cell.


	2. Now a Woman

2.

"What Am I doing in here? Why am I tied down like some kind of insane criminal?" Kirk raged as he struggled against his restraints.

"Because you _are_ an insane criminal!" Bones yelled, resisting the urge to spit in his face.

In the time that they had been subdued, Spock had taken Dr. Coleman back down to his lab so that evidence could be gathered to prove to Starfleet that all that made up Kirk as a person was now inside of a woman named Janice Lester. They hoped that with the scientific data to back up their claim, they would be able to convince Starfleet to allow Janice to take command of the USS Enterprise. So far, their case was proving effective. However, no matter what the outcome, a two-week journey to Starfleet headquarters would be necessary in order to finalize the authorization of the change in command, if their case was indeed to be accepted. In that time, a team of scientists would be working to verify the validity of their claim. But everyone aboard the Enterprise of course already knew it to be true.

Bones continued to lean over Kirk's bed to mock him while he struggled against his restraints.

In an adjoined room, Spock sat by the bed of Janice Lester, who quietly contemplated her new and seemingly permanent existence as a she.

"I can't shake this feeling, Spock. Before Dr. Coleman knocked me out, there was a sense that I could return; a sense that my own body was within reach of my mind. I don't have that sense anymore, Spock," she stated anxiously, but oddly calmly.

"Janice Lester," Spock awkwardly began, obviously unsure of how he should now refer to his companion, "We are currently working with Starfleet to insure your reinstatement of command. Even Dr. Coleman has agreed to do anything necessary to insure our success. He has and continues to provide me with ample scientific data to back up my claims."

"Greatly obliged, Mr. Spock," she said, and smiled. She saw the corner of Spock's mouth twitch in a miniscule display of emotion.

"Dr. McCoy!" Janice called.

Bones entered the room, "Yes, what is it?"

"When do you suppose I'll be able to get out of this bed and into my quarters?" She asked.

"Well, I've checked you over and you seem to be perfectly fine, just as Dr. Coleman predicted," Bones shrugged, "I don't know what that man pumped into your blood, but it sure seemed to have done what it was supposed to do. Fooled even me. But my instruments seem to believe you are alive and well now, so you can leave right now if you want to."

Janice climbed off of the bed. "Alright. Well, I'd like to go and contemplate my new existence as a woman, if you wouldn't mind."

"Alright, Ji—uh, Jan, but I'm going to send in someone to check on you every once in a while, just in case something new comes up and you're too stubborn to tell me about it," he said anxiously.

"Jan, huh? I like that. It almost sounds like Jim," she said, and left sick bay.

Though she wanted to appear to everyone else that she was just fine, she was really very disturbed. Her new body felt so light, and yet so bulky in other unusual places. It was also very strange to be wearing such flowy clothing.

She walked into her quarters and looked around. Everything was exactly the same as she remembered, but slightly higher up. This was of course, she reasoned, because she was now shorter than she was accustomed to being. However, the oddness of it all was still impossible to shake.

She walked across the room to lie down on the bed. The sheets felt exactly the same as always. The bed was just as squishy. The pillows were just as firm. She stared at the ceiling, which looked exactly the same as it always had.

Finally in a solitary moment of quiet, she began to notice some of the physiological differences of being a woman. Obviously, she now had breasts, and she no longer had a penis. She had noticed those physiological differences immediately. But now she could feel the much more subtle differences that she had not noticed in the commotion of the rest of the time she had been a woman. To begin with, she was soft. Her hands and her arms were soft. Her stomach was soft. Her face was soft, completely lacking the teeny bits of stubble that she had never really considered until she realized it was completely gone. Of course she'd felt the soft, practically hairless skin of numerous other women, but on herself the feeling was many levels of astonishing. What was beneath the skin was also soft, and sort of squishy. As a man, he had been muscular. The squishy sensation of lacking muscle was unsettling.

She wondered at the other even more discreet physiological aspects of being a woman that she would likely experience sooner than later. This would be the hormonal aspect—the menstrual cycle would be an obvious result of being a woman, but she knew that this wouldn't be the only affect these hormones would have. She'd never been incredibly interested in biology, but there was the basic understanding that women had much more estrogen, and much less testosterone, than men. There were also other hormones that she knew to affect women differently than men: There's prolactin, the hormone that tells women to produce breast milk, and helps them bond with their children. She hoped that one wouldn't ever be needed. There's oxytocin, the love and bonding hormone, also famous in aiding the mother-child bonding process. There's progesterone, the hormone that promotes stability, and prevents estrogen levels from getting out of hand.

What an adventure. She got out of bed, and headed to the closet. Though she knew her current attire would be proper for a woman, it really wasn't quite as comfortable as the men's attire she was accustomed to wearing. As she began to undress, she immediately encountered an issue: she wasn't quite sure how to, as she had yet to acquire any memories of wearing women's clothing, and subsequently, how to remove it from herself.

She reasoned that there was a zipper located somewhere on the unusual garment. As she frantically rubbed her hands all over her midsection in search of a zipper, she heard a knock on the door.

"Yes?" she called.

"May I enter?" It was Spock.

"Yes, of course," she responded.

As he entered, he was a bit surprised to find her hands contorted and behind her back and in a seemingly illogical position.

"Is there something wrong, Capt— Jan?" He asked as an eyebrow rose.

"No, no, I'm fine," she said, and put her hands back down. "What have you come to tell me?"

"I have nothing to report to you; however, I was requested to check to see that you were without issue," he responded.

"Well, in that case I am quite alright. You can tell Bones that I have no issue to report," she responded, and began to stare at Spock. She looked down at his feet and up to his head and realized that he was very tall.

Spock hesitated, the asked again, "Is there something wrong?"

"No no, it's just that, well, I'm a lot shorter than you," she responded, still a bit befuddled.

Spock once again raised an eyebrow, and slipped another tiny smile that probably only she would notice.

"Well, if that is all, I will report back to McCoy and relate that all is fine," he said.

"Okay, Spock," she said, and sat back on the bed.

Spock turned around and exited the room.

As she stared at the floor, she suddenly found that she had to choke back the urge to cry. In reality, nothing was fine. She'd lost her real body, lost command, lost her ability to undress…


	3. Now a Man

3.

Dr. Coleman, who had dozed off, was startled awake by a sudden racket.

"You can't throw me in there, I'm the Captain!" he heard, and knew it was Kirk. He heard a loud thud and looked over to see Kirk crouched over against the wall. Suddenly, he jumped up and charged at Dr. Coleman, but stopped just before impact.

"My whole plan was nothing but a miserable failure!" he cried, and then curled up in a ball next to the doctor. Dr. Coleman looked down at the pitiful figure and in a moment of compassion caressed Kirk's face. Kirk leaped up and put his arms around him. He appreciated the contact, but he couldn't help but feel like he was being hugged by an ape.

"Will you kiss me?" Lester-within-Kirk pleaded, "I know I'm not quite as …pretty, as I used to be, but I know you still—"

"Yes, you're right.. I still love you," he sighed. "I may not be able to find you physically attractive anymore, but you still mean the world to me…"

He leaned in and kissed him, but just as he expected, it was nothing like kissing his Janice. Even if this being held her mind, this was still the body of James T. Kirk. Even if he closed his eyes and pretended, the smell, the feel, and the taste was nothing of what he knew and loved. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt repulsed by the action.


	4. What Happened?

4.

"Set coordinates for Starfleet Headquarters, Mr. Sulu. Dr. Coleman and I have completed collecting and sending data to the Starfleet Headquarters Science Division, and review is underway. Until then, I will continue to serve as Captain," Spock announced to the bridge, and sat down in the Captain's seat. He glanced at the science station, and couldn't help the feeling of unnaturalness associated with his present situation.

The next several hours passed without event as the entire bridge stared blankly at the viewscreen. Spock's lunch hour eventually came, and Scotty was called to the bridge to temporarily take his place.

Spock decided to pay his former Captain a visit, considering that she was likely incredibly bored, lonely, and very likely depressed without having any sort of useful position to fill on the ship.

He approached her quarters, and knocked on the door.

"May I enter?" He asked.

"Yes, of course," he heard as a response.

When he walked through the door, he was a bit surprised to see that she was wearing one of the Captain's Starfleet uniforms. Though it wasn't in any way illogical to expect this particular person to do such a thing, it was nonetheless an unusual sight. The long sleeve shirt was too long and covered part of her hands, up to her knuckles. It seemed to be dripping off of her shoulders, and her breasts bulged just slightly from the creased material that seemed to envelope her entire torso. Her womanly hips allowed the pants to fit a bit more tightly, however. She was not wearing boots, as the ones in Kirk's wardrobe were undoubtedly much too big for her.

"Would you like for me to arrange an alternate wardrobe to be delivered to you, Jan?" Spock inquired.

Jan sighed, "Yeah, why not."

"If you do not have interest in altering your wardrobe, I do not believe it will impact the performance of the ship's personnel, and therefore I do not believe there is any sort of imperative that necessitates you to do so," Spock replied.

Jan laughed lightly in amusement at Spock's ridiculously logical response.

"Sure, I'll have them bring me a new wardrobe. If I'm going to be a woman, I might as well get used to looking like one," she responded.

"I will have it arranged," he replied. "In the mean time, would you like me to keep you company during my lunch hour? I understand that you have a propensity to become emotionally uncomfortable while alone and without any important function to perform aboard the ship."

Jan's eyes lit up. "Yes, I would like that very much, Mr. Spock," she replied. But just as she was about to open her mouth to begin a conversation, a siren went off, and the room lit up red.

"This is a red alert!" Scotty yelled over the intercom. "Mr. Spock to the bridge, please! I repeat, this is a red alert!"

Both Spock and Jan jumped to their feet.

"Come with me," Spock commanded, and they both ran out the door and up to the bridge.

"What is the nature of this alert?" Spock asked.

"It's the prisoners! Kirk has escaped! He e'en managed to wrestle a phaser from one a' the guards," Scotty replied.

Spock ran to the intercom. "This is your Captain speaking. Prisoner James Kirk has escaped from his cell. He is armed and dangerous. Do not attempt to reason with him, as he is insane. I repeat, he is armed and very dangerous. All crew set phasers on stun. Spock out."

"Lt. Commander Scott, put together an armed search party. Mr. Sulu, man the bridge," Spock commanded.

Spock ran to the intercom once again.

"I need three top security personnel to report to the bridge immediately," Spock demanded, and jumped over to his former captain.

"I am regretful that I must do this, but it is necessary that I have you escorted to a more secure area of the ship. It is undoubtful that Kirk's intention is to take over command of the ship, and have you killed," Spock's expression softened just a bit, and he continued, "It is unfortunate and I am sure demeaning that you have been rendered so defenseless. However, I will not permit risk taking when the life of such a valuable member of our crew is at stake."

Jan smiled, but Spock was much too occupied to notice.

Three redshirts entered the bridge.

"Security officers, take Ms. Lester to whichever area aboard the ship has the highest level of security," Spock commanded.

"But sir, such an area would be the brig," One of the officers responded.

"Ensign, take her to the area of highest security. It is not relevant to me what specific term is used to describe such an area," he responded, allowing a bit of annoyance to show through.

"Aye, sir," the Ensign responded, and they escorted her off of the bridge.

Like clockwork, almost at the instant the automatic doors closed behind them, a great ruckus began just outside of the bridge. One of the security officers ran back through the doors.

"Mr. Spock! The impostor!" He yelled breathlessly, but before the man had even finished what he had said, Spock was out in the hall and in the center of the action, phaser drawn and ready for a fight. He was astonished to find that not only did Kirk have a phaser in one hand, but some sort of gruesome hunting knife in the other. He couldn't help but allow a pulsation of rage momentarily fill his body as he noticed a drop of blood fall from the tip of said knife and land on the contorted face of the man writhing in pain at his feet.

Spock flipped open his communicator, "Spock to McCoy. Man down with a severe knife wound to the chest. Send an armed medical team to the bridge via the turbolift."

"A _what?_ " McCoy yelled, quite incredulous, "I'll send a team immediately."

"Give her to me," Kirk demanded, "She's mine. I've had to live with her for forty years. Now let me kill her."

"I will not," Spock responded, and crouched down in an attack position. He knew this wouldn't just be a simple stand-off. This was going to end in the bloodshed of one or both parties. He glanced to the side and saw his true Captain squished into a corner behind the two remaining guards. She peered back at him over the shoulders of the men in front of her, and was astonished to see the rage in Spock's eyes.

Spock and impostor-Kirk circled each other with smoldering eyes locked. In an action that wasn't surprising to Spock, Kirk threw his phaser down the hall, and grinned. Spock decided to do the same.

"Spock!" Jan frantically yelled, "What are you doing?"

Spock kept his eyes locked with the enemy, and they continued their circling. Kirk lunged at Spock's neck, but Spock caught his wrist and clocked him on the back of the neck. Kirk staggered backward and bumped into the wall behind him. He recovered his stance and took another lunge in the direction of Spock's abdomen. Spock jumped to the side and as the man went careening into the opposite wall, he brought his elbow down on Kirk's back and he fell to the ground. As he attempted to pull himself back up, Spock lunged downward and pinned him to the floor by the neck. As the man helplessly flailed, Spock grabbed his knife-wielding hand, and flipped him on his back. As Spock hovered over him, he tucked his legs into his abdomen and kicked the Vulcan in the chest as hard as he could. Spock flew back, but he'd had such a strong grip on Kirk's wrist that with the force, some of his skin had been torn off along with Spock's hand.

"Aaaugh!" Kirk cried out in pain. Spock was opposite him fighting to catch his breath after the forceful blow. Kirk tossed the knife into his other hand, and they began to circle each other once again. This time, Spock made the first move and struck Kirk with a left and right hook to the chin. Dazed Kirk staggered against the wall, but quickly brought himself up in hopes that Spock wouldn't have time to respond to his faltering. However, Spock was already a step ahead and had him pinned to the wall by the neck before he had time to realize what was going on. Spock also had a tight grip on the elbow of his knife-wielding arm. His grip was incredibly strong, and he couldn't move that arm so much as a millimeter.

Slowly, Kirk began to realize that he was also losing circulation in that arm. Spock held him in that position for several minutes, while the arm weakened and numbed. Eventually, the arm became blue and useless and the knife clattered to the ground. He released the arm, and threw the man to the ground. He straddled Kirk, and leaned into his chest with his own arm in order to hold him down. With his free hand, he grabbed the knife that lay by their feet, and slowly brought it toward Kirk's neck.

Kirk's face contorted to reveal sheer terror. He began to screech and cry as the knife came closer and closer to his jugular. He struggled wildly. He kicked his legs madly and flapped his useless hands which were pinned beneath Spock's knees.

"Spock!" Jan yelled, convinced that his friend had lost his mind, "What the hell are you doing? Spock! Stop! Stop it!"

As though a switch had been thrown, Kirk stiffened like a board and became as quiet as a mouse when he felt the cold edge of the knife press against his neck.

"Don't move," Spock ordered in a voice that was disturbingly calm.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock yelled. In an instant, Bones rushed into the hallway and darted over to Spock's side. But before he could rationally assess the situation, he couldn't help but shirk back in terror of what he was looking at.

"Administer this man a sedative," Spock yelled.

Bones cautiously edged over to the side of the man on the floor and sprayed the hypo into his arm. In a moment, the man's eyes closed and he went limp. Spock carefully retracted the knife and backed off of his subdued body.

Spock turned his head to look over at Janice, whose face was twisted in fear. He snapped his head forward and stared at the floor in shame of how insanely emotional he had just acted. He looked around the hall. There was blood splattered here and there, both red and green. He looked at Kirk, whose face and right arm were smeared with his own blood, and the blood of the Vulcan. Spock could not remember injuring himself in such a way as to cause bleeding. He looked down at his hands. He had a deep gash along his palm. It occurred to him that he must have been sliced when Kirk kicked him back, and he lost grip of Kirk's arm. He looked back at Janice, who was still stricken with incredulity. He began to wonder if he was also losing his mind.


	5. Weak

5.

Spock sat in the Captain's chair contemplating the insanity that had unfolded previously in the day. He pushed the intercom button on the chair's instrument panel.

"Mr. Scott, can you please temporarily take my place on the bridge? I find it necessary that I visit Dr. McCoy," he requested.

"Certainly, sir," Scotty replied.

Spock stood and walked to the turbolift.

"Deck 12," He announced, and the machine shot upward.

He exited, and walked into McCoy's office.

"How are the patients?" Spock inquired.

"Ensign Flores has stabilized, and Kirk is in restraints, still unconscious," He replied.

"I am pleased to hear so," Spock hesitated, "I'd like to be given a psychological evaluation."

The doctor's eyes widened.

"Well, if you say so," he said, "Come sit on this bench."

Spock complied, and the examination went underway.

Jan was back in her room with Spock's phaser clutched tightly between her trembling hands. After the day's events, she couldn't help the paranoid terror that continued to pulse through her body. Spock had been right; she was all but completely helpless. She knew that while this body held a planet-side scientist, it was perfectly adequate for what it was required to do on a daily basis. However, on a starship, a scientist was trained almost as rigorously in defense as a security officer.

On a starship, there was no telling what a scientist would be needed for, as Science Officer Spock demonstrated shortly ago. On a planet, a scientist did science. While plenty of unexpected things happen in a planet-side lab, rarely do such things require a physical fight for one's life. Though the Jim within her mind was perfectly capable of defending himself, this planet-side body was not. And on top of all that, the radiation sickness she had recently recovered from had certainly taken a toll on even what sort of strength was necessary to live as a planet-side scientist.

She continued to stare intently at the door to her quarters as she sat cross-legged on the bed. Any moment now, she thought. That insane person stuck inside of her rightful body was going to burst through this door at any moment and zap her to oblivion.

She looked down at her shaking hands and the phaser they held. As Jim, he had depended on Spock, and trusted him implicitly. He could always rely on Spock to come through for him no matter how dire the situation. There had long been the sense that without Spock, he would never have survived and thrived to become the incredible captain he was.

But now, he was not the Captain. In his mind he was, but in this body she was just some random person with average physical strength and with an incredible death threat hovering constantly above her head.

She needed Spock. _He _had always needed Spock, but not like this. She had to actively suppress an incredible desire to burst from the room and sprint to the bridge in search of that security. She kept finding herself wanting to jump up to the intercom to spout out any variety of ridiculous reasons for Spock to come back down to her quarters. She could hardly even wrap her head around just how badly she wanted to be standing next to her old friend.

_This is ridiculous,_ she thought. _There are over 100 security personnel posted aboard this ship, and the danger is unconscious and restrained in sick bay anyhow._

No matter how many times she rolled this thought around in her brain, the incredible fear would not dissipate, and the incredible yearning would not subside. But, other terrible images also continued to roll through her head.

Over and over again, she watched the knife penetrate that ensign's bowels. She saw Kirk jump out from the shadows and swing his arm, and like a fork in jell-o, the knife just slid right in. She heard the man's piercing cry and watched his trembling figure fall to the ground while Kirk slid the knife back out of his burst intestines. She watched the blood drip from both men's hands; one man's face twisted in one of the most terrible grimace she'd ever seen, and the other grinning like a fool in the heat of his terrible blood-lust. He'd just looked up at her with an insane piercing glare when Spock jumped in between the two, battle-ready.

She looked down at the phaser once again, and back up at the door. She wondered how long she could hold out against the maniac fear that was ravaging her mind before she would burst.

"Looks to me that you're just fine, Spock. There's a touch of anxiety and a bit of an after-buzz of adrenaline, but there's nothing here that would alert me to recommend that you take a break from your duties," Dr. McCoy informed Spock.

"Thank you doctor," Spock replied. Hesitantly, he said, "Then I shall be returning to my duties."

He walked out of sick bay and into the turbolift.

"Bridge," he directed. While in the turbolift he thought of Jan, whose mind was that of his closest friend and his former captain. Bones was right: he was slightly anxious. He was struggling suppress that last remaining bit of emotional outrage that remained from the day's events. The image of the sheer terror present on Jan's face as he left her in her quarters remained burned in his mind's eye. Though he knew that logically there was hardly any chance Kirk would escape to terrorize Jan a second time, he found himself bending to the hysteria that Jim, who was now Jan, would characteristically come under ever so often. This was what compelled him to lend Jan his phaser, even though, logically, doing so was quite useless.

He stepped out onto the deck, and excused Scotty from the bridge. He looked around the room as he sat down on the Captain's chair. Everyone was calm. The atmosphere was stable and all was normal. Nonetheless, Jan's terrified image still floated around in his mind. He looked at the strangely vacant science station, and a chill shot down his spine as he imagined a person he'd always considered to be very strong and dominant sitting on a bed, cowering hopelessly, phaser in hand.


End file.
